Dreaming of Bluebells

I’m going to fall asleep in a bluebell wood, thanks to Lavender G! You can join me, if you want to embrace some color magic. I think Monet and van Gogh would have liked these woods.

Lavender Moon Girl's Blog

I dreamabout being in a bluebell woodland,

Morning’s dampness on my hands.

I find a torn seam in elemental’s veil;

Ask to enter the precious trail.



Bare toes tickling on grassy moss,

Nose wrinkling as plumes of bluebells waft;

Lost in a deep purple blue lake,


Looking at the shapes the old oak makes,

Their wizened branches seeking light,

Orange tip butterflies flee with all their might!


Woodland’s serenade fades gently like a breeze;

I take a sip of Titania’s tea,

Finding myself mixing a pool of morning dew

With soothing dainty hues from the bluebell wood

on my watercolour palette ready for a new painting to emerge.

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2017 Progressive Poem

I’m here to tell you that building a poem with 29 other poets has shivered my timbers and set my castle alight. Read down, and you will see my line, bold and italicized, emerge like a flying monkey from the otherwise well-mannered unfolding. I think it may be carrying a torch. Or is that my hair on fire? (Terror, you cannot defeat me.)

2017 Kidlitosphere Progressive Poem

2017 Progressive Poem

I’m fidget, friction, ragged edges—
I sprout stories that frazzle-dazzle, Continue reading